Triple Chocolate Brownie
by FearlessnessNY
Summary: Staring back at her was the Herbal Essences of all desserts.  Triple Chocolate Brownie.  Her breath hitched.  Was there a back room somewhere?


The summer heat descended upon the city, engulfing the island in its wrath.

Olivia weaved in and out of foot traffic in Times Square, and she swore she knew what it was like to be inside a convection oven.

There she was on the now hottest day of the year in Times Fucking Square and she'd be damned if she'd be mistaken for a tourist. It wasn't as if she looked like one, anyway, in her black slacks and that godforsaken, three quarter length sweater she'd worn. Each block made her want to whip it off that much more and throw it away, leaving only her white camisole tank top.

She walked past the NYPD station. An elbow caught her in the rib and she cursed, shooting a sharp glance in the direction of a fanny-pack, tube sock wearing asshole with an I Heart New York shirt and a button to boot. The place reeked of camera-toting, virgin New York City go'ers looking to fill their sights with all that the Big Apple proclaimed.

Eyes straight ahead, she rifled through her bag and found the familiar wad of tissue she'd just used to mop the sweat from her forehead and frowned. She hated wearing makeup as it was, just barely donning a thin layer of eyeliner and lip gloss most days. She could only imagine how she looked now that some of her foundation had come off.

She stopped at the corner, squinting into the sun's rays. In her haste to get there early she'd left her glasses on the kitchen counter. Sure, there was a knock-off table at every intersection, but it was principle. She didn't need another pair and she'd go blind before she slapped on a pair of 'Dior' sunglasses. She could already hear the mantra of designers each street side vendor rattled off to entice passers by into buying their loot.

She hated Times Square. Everything about it she detested because life wasn't colored lights and souvenir shops. It wasn't even a freezing cold theater with a godforsaken pillar you had to peer around because you couldn't afford the good tickets. No, life was what happened when the sun went down and the rest of the city went black.

The world was full of the degenerates of society in every shape or form that the mind could imagine. Well, her mind at least. She was wiser now far beyond her years; not that she hadn't grown up substantially even before she'd hit puberty.

She wished she could go back to the days of her early childhood before she knew what atrocious crimes one person could inflict upon another. Back to the innocence of snow days and the first cops and robbers show her mother let her watch because it kept her out of trouble. That television was the best babysitter she'd ever had.

Her views had changed over the years to include world peace and the absence of violence she knew would never occur anytime soon. Not in her lifetime, at least.

The many signs she passed said she had an hour and twelve minutes, give or take a few. She spotted the theatre and sighed. She was way too early, but if she had left any later, she would have barely made it. There was bound to be a delay; there always was one when she opted to ride the train instead of drive. Such was her luck.

She scanned the multiple shops and eateries that lined both sides of the street. It seemed ridiculous to keep it lit up like the Fourth of July in the middle of the day.

She rounded the corner and walked to the next block, hoping for some much needed shade. She could grab a bite to eat. She wasn't particularly hungry, but she'd passed a restaurant with an array of desserts in the front window and damn it if her mouth hadn't started to water.

Turning back suddenly, she earned a few choice words. Where the hell did they have to be anyway? The wax museum wasn't going to melt in the heat, but she was if she didn't get out of the sun.

She took one look through the smudged glass of the door of the restaurant and pulled it open. A menu was thrust into her hands and she was promptly ushered to a seat in the corner away from the other patrons. Thank heaven for small favors.

Her eyes fell upon the drink list because that's what she needed more than anything. She could use a Kahlua Cooler. Resigned to the fact that alcohol and the heat weren't a good combination, she opted for lemonade and scanned the list of cheesecakes.

She licked her lips in delight as she spotted one. Staring back at her was the Herbal Essences of all desserts. Triple Chocolate Brownie. Her breath hitched. Was there a back room somewhere?

Ten agonizingly slow minutes later, her cake arrived. It filled the plate remarkably well and had a little dollop of whipped cream on the side.

She didn't know where to begin. All signs pointed to the very tip, but in case it filled her up too quickly, she pondered starting with the end that had the most chocolate. It would all even out in the end because whatever she couldn't eat right then she was taking home. Ninety degree weather be damned, she'd be eating it all.

She ate slowly, methodically, playing a game of wills with her stomach. She pleaded for just a little more space so she could enjoy the rest of her chocolaty delight. And what a delight it was.

She glanced around, absently tugging on the waistband of her pants. Shit, she was full. She eyed her half empty glass with disdain.

One doggy bag later, she stood in front of the theatre, thinking how depressing it was that she'd even bought a ticket to go alone. She'd heard a lot about the play and damn it if she wanted to see Legally Blonde, she would. She smoothed her shirt down and walked through the revolving door. Just let someone stop her from bringing her prized possession inside.

She made her way to the correct section and row and took her seat. Ever so gently, she set the plastic bag on the floor as the lights flickered, signaling the start of the show.

Two and a half hours later, she walked out onto the jam-packed sidewalk. She could see the goosebumps on her forearms. In a matter of minutes, though, she'd be cursing the heat once again.

She felt a hand on her shoulder, breaking her away from her thoughts. An apologetic look followed from a middle-aged woman with a camera. Her husband and two young children lined up for the photo with a striking view of Times Square in the background. She handed the camera back.

She couldn't help but smile at the gleam in their eyes. Her good mood went against everything she believed in. She shall not like Times Square.

She took one last look at the happy family before walking back to the subway station. She was hot, tired, and in need of her air conditioned apartment far away from the hustle and bustle of the streets.

She stepped onto the train and took her seat. Sighing, she leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Images of her day ran through her mind. The cheesecake, the play, the tourist family. The cheesecake.

The parents and their children kept coming up. She saw the youthful expression on the couple's faces as they embraced the young boy and girl. The happiness seeped out of their pores in the summer sun, not to be ruined by the humid, New York City day they'd spent wandering the streets.

The bag on her lap crinkled and her eyes shot open as it began to slide. An apology was uttered to her right, and she blinked in surprise, the words foreign to her ears.

Two simple words. Like cheesecake. Well, two words making up one word. It was amazing how something so small could have such a big impact.

She heard the announcement of the next stop and the sing-song melody that followed as the doors closed. She scooted closer to the edge of the seat, her white-knuckled grip on the bag unrelenting.

Soon, she would be that much closer to enjoying her little slice of heaven. She mentally prepared herself. The quick detour to the bathroom would be problematic, but necessary in maximizing the enjoyment of the cake. Luckily she'd picked a good train. It was almost as if fate had played a hand in preventing the dessert from melting. She smiled at her luck.

Suddenly, she didn't mind the timid passengers with their gigantic maps spread on top of their laps, their eyes trailing over the areas and darting back to the digital readout in fear of missing the stop but not quite sure that they had the right train to begin with.

She no longer hated the rubber necks that stopped mid stride to 'ooh' and 'aah' over the colorful billboards and signs.

She supposed she could stand the tourists, and the cheesecake was reason enough to like anything.

She sighed dramatically.

She still hated Times Square.


End file.
